CHAPTER XV

Gemma’s Perfect Obedience

SOMETHING HAS now to be said of the obedience of which this blessed child gave proof, denying her own will in order to give it entirely into the hands of her spiritual guides. This subject is of the greatest importance, as it is in this denial of the will that the virtue of obedience principally consists. We have already shown how necessary this self-denial is for the attainment of perfection. Of this Our Lord speaks when He says, “If any man will follow Me, let him deny himself.”

When Gemma, having been left an orphan, entered the house of strangers as a guest, she obeyed her loving benefactress in all external things. Aunt had only to say, “Gemma get up—let us go out—go back to your room—go to bed,” and Gemma, always ready, hastened at once to obey, without making the least demur. This even when she was suffering from fever, which must have rendered certain acts of obedience very difficult.

When in Church, and intent on heavenly delights with her Jesus, after Holy Communion, on receiving a sign from her companion to come home, she immediately stood up and followed her. One would think that she was only waiting to be called. The force of this virtue of obedience, as we have likewise seen, was felt by her even when in ecstasy. Let us hear the same Lady describe it:

“After Holy Communion, and the blessing of the Priest, I called Gemma to come back to her place; but she was already in ecstasy. Fearing that anyone might notice her, without uttering a word, I said within myself, O Jesus, if it is Thy will, make her return at once to her place through obedience. Would you believe it? She immediately raised her head: I told her to go to her place, and she did so. Seeing how well this plan succeeded, I continued to act afterwards in the same way, and God, Who so loved His faithful servant, was always present and made her obey.”

When she was in bed at night, although surrounded by many persons talking among themselves, if the aforesaid Lady said to her, “Gemma, you need rest, sleep!” She then and there closed her eyes, and fell into a profound sleep. I myself wished to prove this, and being in the house when Gemma was ill, standing by her bedside with other persons, I said to her—“Take my blessing, sleep, and we will go away.” Gemma turned on the other side and fell fast asleep.

Then I knelt down much moved, and lifting my eyes to Heaven, I gave her a mental precept to awake. And behold! as if aroused by a voice she awoke, and as usual smiled. I reproached her—“Is it thus you obey? I told you to sleep;” and she in all humility said—“Don’t be vexed, Father; I felt someone touch my shoulder, and a loud voice called out, Rise, the Father is calling you.” It was her Angel Guardian who was watching by her side.

Let no one think that this holy child’s great readiness to obey was the effect of natural timidity or indecision. We have already observed the trend of her natural disposition. It would have impelled her to command and domineer, rather than to obey and submit. Hence it was entirely the fruit of solid virtue when, with such astonishing simplicity, she submitted herself to the will of others. Nature had no part in those acts; nay she had to repress nature, and constantly do violence to herself, in order to yield so unreservedly to others. And as she was so docile in conforming to the will of others in external things, it is easy to understand how much more perfect was her obedience in spiritual matters, to which she devoted all her attention. In her humility she felt that she was totally incapable of taking a single step unassisted.

Hence in her desire to walk, nay fly, in the way of perfection, she was thoroughly convinced that her only course was to place herself in the hands of a spiritual guide assigned her by Heaven”

“The time has now come,” she said, “for me to do the will of my Confessor, and never again my own. Even Jesus has said this to me, indeed He often repeats it, telling me that I must no longer have a will or opinion of my own and that my wish must be that of the Confessor.” For this reason she constantly had recourse to him, at one time to ask him if she had done rightly on such an occasion, at another to know how she was to act in some undertaking. From every one of her letters it will be seen that she wished to be guided in everything by her Confessor. It is certain too that, had she not felt such need of direction, we should have known hardly anything of the interior work of grace in this privileged soul.

And into what details was she not ready to enter, although so gifted with infused knowledge of heavenly things!

“Provided you, Father, approve of it, I should like to ask Jesus to calm my head a little.” (She was alluding to the excruciating pains, that were causing her a martyrdom.)

“Shall I ask him? Do you approve of my making a general confession to Father Provincial? If you do, I will make it; but if you don’t wish it, I am satisfied all the same. Will you allow me to ask Jesus to make the hour of agony every night?” Again, writing to her ordinary Confessor, “I should like to ask you to put me in a convent, but I think the Father (her director) does not wish me to speak of such a thing. If it is so, I will say nothing. You are satisfied, are you not, that tomorrow I go to spend the day at the convent? You may be sure I shall enjoy it.”

All will I think be gratified by my many quotations of Gemma’s words, and that the beautiful soul of this perfect child may be made known to us in her own language. “On Saturday,” she says, “you gave me leave to rise early in the morning. I rise and pray, but I should like to do what the nuns do in choir. Do you approve of my asking a Passionist Father to teach me what they do, and allow me to do it? Were I to ask Jesus to make me die of consumption (of course in His own time, not now,) would you be satisfied. This would be my desire, but in any case I am willing to do what Jesus wants of me.” And taking fresh courage from her filial confidence, she writes in another letter, “Give me leave, Father, to ask Jesus again to take me quickly out of this life to be with Him in glory. I live always trembling at the danger of offending Him.”

To all these and similar proposals the Confessor and Director replied as they felt inspired by God. And Gemma showing by deed the sincerity of what she had said, remained perfectly satisfied with the answer given her, whether it was yes, or no, and thought no more about it. When the no was perceptive, this saintly child kept it carefully in her mind, and set her whole being into conformity with it. Here I have to mention things so strange that if they were not true they would seem incredible.

I have said already that Gemma, in order to obey her spiritual Father, was obliged to struggle with Jesus Himself, because she was given to understand that it was not Jesus she saw, but the devil. Here I go further and add that she even resisted her Divine Spouse, although recognized as such by her director, solely because the obedience had forbidden her to stay to listen to Him. Such a struggle surely was superior to all human strength! Yet Gemma sustained it courageously and triumphed.

“Oh! how my good Jesus tempts me!” she said. “But I hold steadfastly to the obedience, though it entails great strife. O! beloved sacrifice! O! beloved and beautiful obedience!” Once when Our Savior appeared to her all covered with wounds, He invited her to approach and kiss Him. At such a sight, and at the thought of the prohibition laid on her, she burst into tears, but would not approach her Jesus. Meanwhile, as her affections grew more excited, she began to feel the usual indication of the sacred stigmas in her hands and feet and side. “My God,” she said, “what is to be done? The moment I felt it, I rose and quickly fled. I left Jesus and thus obeyed and was content.”

“Poor Jesus!” she said again. “How many times have I not been rude to Him, and resolutely turned Him away in obedience to the Confessor. And He stood there, so good, so good!” At another time she had leave to remain with her Lord, when He came to visit her, for at limited time, in order (as her Confessor wisely thought) that she might have time to sleep. What happened? Jesus appeared to her. It was one of the usual evenings from Thursday to Friday. Gemma took part as usual in the pains of the Passion, and was being consumed with love in company with her suffering Redeemer, when lo and behold the clock struck the allotted time.

“What was I to do?”—these are her words—“Jesus remained, but He witnessed my embarrassment. In obedience I was obliged to send Him away because the fixed time was passed. He then said, Give me a sign that henceforward you wilt obey Me.

“Then I exclaimed—Jesus, go away, I do not want you to stay any longer.”

The same thing happened frequently with her Guardian Angel; but of that in another chapter.

I learned once that, while at Our Lord’s feet, it was made known to her when my letters would reach Lucca; and she with her usual simplicity made it known at home; “This morning—tomorrow—by such a train a letter will come from Father. He posted it yesterday—or today—at such an hour.” And as she said, so always without fail it happened. I wished to mortify her in this, saying that thus she gave evidence of levity and subtle pride. This is how she took the correction:

“Father, on my knees I ask your pardon for all. No, no! I will never again attempt to do what I have done, or say what I have said. I will obey you. Do you know, Father, all day on Sunday I felt your reproof. I will take care not to make any more prophecies about the arrival of your letters. I always feel sorry for what I said and did, and I hate it and will not do it again. Write when you will; I won’t dare to disobey your command.”

Then knowing well that she had got that knowledge from Our Lord, with humble bashfulness she added: “I feel inclined to excuse myself, but no, no! I wish to obey and hold my tongue. Viva Gesu!” And, as she never forgot what she had been told by her director, after some months she was able to write as follows: “Father, as you know, I have conquered! This morning early, before Holy Communion, I knew by inspiration that today for certain a letter would come from you. I have suffered somewhat from my longing to come out with it, but I have repressed it. According to the warning I had from you, I have not said a word. That is right, is it not?”

I have already mentioned the extraordinary phenomenon of bursts of blood from her mouth, that Gemma very often had, when, while in ecstasy, her heart throbbed violently, so as even to bend her ribs considerably. Her ordinary Confessor forbade this, though well knowing that it did not depend on her will. No matter; this saintly girl made every effort to please her spiritual father, even when in ecstasy, and when she knew that her efforts were in vain, she felt remorse at her failure, and accused herself of it, as of a disobedience.

“I have disobeyed the Confessor,” she writes to me, “as he had forbidden me to bleed from my mouth. I obeyed up to now, but this morning, in a movement of my heart, a little came away. How shall I have courage to meet the Confessor?”

In these words I don’t know which is more to be admired, the simplicity of the dove, or her heroic obedience.

I have also stated how her prudent Confessor, fearing that the excruciating pains, to which this precious victim was subject every week from Thursday to Friday, might ruin her health, ended in forbidding her cooperation in any of these extraordinary things; and this under precept of obedience.

Behold the wonderful result! The Divine Author of this extraordinary phenomenon willed the precept of His minister to be respected, until he withdrew it. The phenomenon ceased, at least as to its outward manifestation, and Gemma rejoiced at this, although the precept cost her so much. Here is how she writes to me:

“The Confessor put me under obedience not to do anything extraordinary, and all is going well. But, oh what violence I have to do myself in order to keep good!” And in ecstasy she was heard to exclaim, “Oh dear obedience, that deprives me of all the sweetness of my love, I long to embrace thee!” In a suffering that troubled her shortly before her last illness, her stomach became so upset that she was unable to take any food, liquid or solid. Here again recourse was had to obedience, with the same success.

“I am ready,” she said to me, “to do all that you tell me. I hope that Jesus will enable me to obey. Nay I am certain that from the first of the month I shall never again reject any food.” And indeed from the beginning of the next month she was able to take and retain her food without any difficulty. After such an easy experience precepts were multiplied one after the other.

In every need recourse was had to the Confessor or director, and he sent word to Gemma that through obedience she was to recover, through obedience she was to get up, through obedience she was to come to her senses. Then in an instant she fever left her, she rose, the ecstasy ended, then was Gemma up and free and well. Great God, of infinite love, how wonderfully do You deal with Thine elect!

That this holy obedience was pleasing to Our Lord was made manifest by the earnestness with which He deigned to inculcate it to His servant either directly or through her Guardian Angel. “Obedience! Obedience!”—this was the dominant note and aim of every one of those celestial interviews, with which she was so often favored.

“Blind obedience, perfect obedience, this is the first thing to be remembered,” said the Divine Master to her. “Be as a dead body; do henceforth everything that is required of thee promptly.”

Nor did Gemma escape severe scoldings when in the least bit wanting in the perfection of this virtue. If you do not obey,” said Jesus to her, “at the cost of every sacrifice, I will leave thee alone in the hands of thine enemy.”

“If you do not overcome thyself,” said her Angel Guardian, “by promptly doing whatever is commanded thee, you shalt not see me more”

Everything was turned to profit by this watchful virgin; severe threats and sweet exhortations alike; the words of her spiritual director just as those of Our Savior and of the Angel. Her consequent advancement in this virtue as well as in all others was seen by everyone.

So perfectly had she accustomed herself to obey that in obedience alone she found tranquility and repose. “What consolation,” she exclaimed, “does not my heart find in obedience.

It generates in me a calm that I cannot explain. Obedience for ever! Source of all my peace. I thank you, my Father, who have taught me the value of this precious virtue, and given me so much good advice and instruction, by means of which I have escaped so many great dangers. I will always, with the Divine assistance, put in practice whatever is commanded me, in order to please Jesus.”

And in another letter—“Don’t be afraid, Father, recommend me to Jesus, and I will always and everywhere obey. Nay, with regard to certain things, by force of habit I no longer feel any difficulty in obedience. It was Jesus who a few days ago gave me this grace, for which I will ever thank Him.”

Again, “Jesus has promised me to make known to you His Will in my regard, provided I ask it of Him with humility; and I have already done so. Thus I am in peace, awaiting that the most holy Will of God be perfectly fulfilled in and by me in all things.”

Now this is the highest degree of perfect obedience; joy in the denial of self. Gemma had reached it; she has therefore a right to the Divine Promise, “the truly obedient will recount victories.”